The End
by ATightropeToTheWords
Summary: "There ain't no rest for the wicked, honey/ Or, how everyone's lives got completely screwed up in the end." Dark oneshot about how Apophis brings about the end of the world. Entry for larkgrace's prompt contest.


**A/N: Hiya! So, this is a TKC oneshot about, basically, the end of the world. 'Tis very dark...  
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**Anyway, it's an entry for larkgrace's prompt contest. The prompt is:**

**"_There ain't no rest for the wicked, honey /or, how everyone's lives got completely screwed up, in the end._"**

**So, I hope y'all enjoy! **

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><p>That smirk feels like it is permanently etched into his mind. He sees it at night when he finally slips into sleep and is haunted by nightmares. He sees it when he closes his eyes. He sees it when he escapes to his bedroom under the pretenses of having a headache when really he just stares at the wall and thinks. They all understand. He needs his space. He needs his time.<p>

But time won't bring her back. Time won't erase the pain and the horror. Time won't keep her alive through the night. He doesn't even know if his little sister _is_ still alive. And maybe the worst part, he thinks, is knowing that she would be better off dead, where she couldn't be tortured anymore.

/*\*/*\

She limps along the hallway until she reaches her cell, and then she is shoved inside by a rough, scaly pair of arms. Her knees break her fall and she groans loudly but there is no reply to her agony except the rusty door being thrust closed with a creak and the click of a lock. She stays frozen in place until she hears the demon's footsteps retreat and she knows that, for tonight, at least, she is safe.

She crawls into her corner and squeezes herself as far into it as she can, as if she could hide from it all. She folds her arms under her head and buries her face in them. Her body is weak but instinctively tenses away from the pain, which only succeeds in making it spread. Her skin is covered in a thick layer of grime and sweat and, in some places, blood. Her hair is matted to her forehead and the back of her neck. She thinks her hairband is still somewhere in her hair, but it's a tangled mess and her arms are too sore to reach up simply to fix her hair.

She gently cradles her head in her arms and closes her eyes. Tears form and begin to leak out and she doesn't try to stop them. It doesn't matter if she cries. There's nobody here to watch her, anyway. They never came. He promised her he would come for her. But he hasn't.

She is alone. She is so, so alone.

/*\*/*\

He folds his hands, intertwining the fingers. It is an oddly human gesture, but there is nothing human about him. He is a serpent. He is a demon. He is darkness, shadow, fear, and pain.

He looks out over Brooklyn with the hungry eyes of a monster. The city is shrouded in night, with only the unnaturally bright city lights to illuminate it. Brooklyn House is tucked away in a corner, as if it were hiding from view, but it cannot escape him. He sees it and a smile stretches across his face.

He must weaken them. He has already dealt them a blow in taking the Kane girl, but it is not enough. They are still planning to fight them. If anything, taking the girl has only made those insufferable magicians more determined.

He must wipe them out completely.

The smile is still present on his face an hour later, as he watches the remains of Brooklyn House smolder and burn.

_There ain't no rest for the wicked, honey..._

/*\*/*\

There are no survives other than himself, he thinks, and it takes every ounce of strength that he can muster not to fall to his knees and start crying. He takes an unsteady step towards the warehouse. It burnt down along with Brooklyn House, which seems oddly fitting, in a sick way.

All he can see is blackness. Charred pieces of wood that splinter as his shoes crunch them. Broken glass shards coated in grimy soot. The silhouette of an ivory wand burnt to nothing but rubble. And...his stomach twists when he spots what looks like a penguin stuffed animal sitting atop what must be the wood of Felix's bedroom.

That is the final blow. He drops to his knees as all previous strength leaves him. His body is impaled with splinters as he crashes to the ground, but he couldn't possibly care less. The pain is a sweet, relieving distraction from the thoughts swirling through his mind.

He should not have survived. He should have burnt with his trainees and his home. But he lived. And he wishes that he had not.

/*\*/*\

She hears footsteps approaching her cell, and her body tenses in fear. She gives a fearful little whimper and tries to push herself even further into the corner.

A cold laugh resounds throughout the cell as the door is unlocked and pushed open with that familiar creak. More footsteps nearing her. She cannot look up, so she looks down and sees a pair of brown loafers. Her forehead wrinkles in confusion, vaguely wondering what sort of demon wears loafers, until her eyes wander upwards and she sees his face. She gives a soft little yelp.

/*\*/*\

He does not bother to keep his his lips curving upwards as he watches the girl's pupils dilate in fear and her bottom lip begin to tremble. She is nothing like the arrogant, proud, stubborn girl she was when he has first gotten her. She is broken, and he delights in it.

"They are all gone, little girl," he informs her in a voice that is mockingly soft and gentle.

He watches her lips form a small "o" shape as she tries to force out words. She cannot do it. She just looks at him with those very wide blue eyes, the only color that graces the cell, and asks a question with them.

"They are all burning," he continues with delight. He savors the words and says them as slowly as he can to help the message sink in. "The 21st Nome is up in smoke, along with every single person or creature you care about."

She shakes her head violently, jerking it from side to side. She manages to force out a few stammered words. "N-n-no. Th-that's not–y-_you're lying_." She glares at him accusingly. He pretends to be offended.

"I have better things to do with my time than lie to you, little girl. Such as watching everything you have left burn with the night," he snarls. He turns on his heel and leaves the cell. As he closes and locks the door, he sneers inside and tells her, "You are alone, child. Absolutely alone."

/*\*/*\

He is alone. Absolutely alone. He has nothing left. His friends and family are gone. His home is gone. _His sister is gone._ The one person he could always rely on when everything fell apart. The one person who could give him hope when everything they had to hope for was gone.

He looks at the knife in his hands, turning the handle over slowly, and doesn't hesitate to thrust it into his chest. The numbness he feels overall turns what should be agonizing pain into nothing more than a stinging sensation. He curls up into a ball and slowly, ever slowly, bleeds to death.

Black spots appear in his vision, and he knows he's almost gone, so he whispers what he wishes to be his final words:

"I'm sorry, Sadie...I love you, sis...See you in-" his sentence is cut off as all life slips from his body.

/*\*/*\

_The end...of the world._**  
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><p><strong> AN: ...wow. That was darker than I expected it to be. Heehee.**

**Anyways, hope you enjoyed! Or, er, I at least hope I didn't make you feel too emo with all of that end-of-the-world shtuff. XD**

**- Hyper **


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